Monocled Alchemist

STEVE KEATON gets expelled with Belfast’s OUTCASTS

Article published in Sounds, 1st May, 1982

The Outcasts | Cast Iron | CONTRARY TO popular belief, no globs of gel or fountains of lacquer are used — Greg Cowan‘s blonde barnet is driven into spikes by raging torrents of adrenalin alone.

But don’t stand too close, you might be skewered where you stand should his glands go wild. “Dis is our new sangle!” he bawls. “It’s called ‘Angel Fiss’, youse can all buy it and make me rich . . . and even fatter!”

As if on cue a brace of flashbombs explode with a sudden, cracking bamf! and clouds of acrid, white smoke turn the light gantry blue.

The Outcasts, Belfast’s barmiest, brightest barnstormers don’t so much play ‘Angel Face’ as pulverise it; the Glitter Band would turn grey in their graves if they knew. Onstage the two drummers pump like disembodied hearts as the cyclopean singer slams his bass against his thigh to the beat.

The Outcasts are the ultimate punk ROCK band and they chew up the trashy classic and spit it out like baccy. I strap myself down in the heart of the storm. It’s gonna be one hell of a rough ride . . .

The set is a sandblaster. A triumphant typhoon that excites like a Tardis full o’ Tegans. Their original material is equally ferocious, ‘You’re A Disease’, ‘Gangland Warfare’ and ‘Beating And Screaming’ are all volcanoes of unforgiving power. Magic, memorable, singable songs that riot through the streets of your mind, sidestepping cliche with nimble footwork that dazzles the eyeballs and punishes the shins.

The Outcasts | Cast Iron

I watch wide-eyed as they steal with fire the thunder from unsuspecting headliners — despite the fact that they’re minus the talents of Gruesome Getty, their lead guitarist at the time. I’m later told that he’s undergoing some horrendous stomach transplant (although I admit that I might have grasped the wrong end of the proverbial surgeon’s scalpel here).

As the place is wrecked with flailing maces I’m filled with a, panting pride, which is somewhat strange seeing as how I hardly even know the blokes.

ADVENTURERS WILL find a trio of Cowan brothers at the heart of the Outcasts. Greg Cowan is the vocalist/bass player. He’s largely built (hence the tubby jibe) and speaks with a mild stutter. He tells me that all he’s ever wanted to do is play in a band like the S-S-S-Sex P-P-P-Pistols.

Colin Cowan is the original drummer. Nutter rider of a 900cc Kawasaki motorbike, he used to be into semi-pro racing before the group.

Eldest of the —– three is Martin Cowan, the chief songwriter and rhythm guitarist. More sullen and grim-faced than the others, his eyes betray a short and volatile temper. “The three of us could only ever be in a punk band together,” he declares, “because of all the anger and tension. It’s terrible at times . . .”

On the non-family front there’s lead axeman Getty (just Getty) who, as mentioned earlier, is undergoing things medical elsewhere and Raymond Falls, their small and tattooed second drummer. He’s so quiet he might as well be elsewhere too. “Having three brothers in the group means I can’t say much . . .” he confides. F

Formed back in Belfast around ’77 the Outcasts have released a whole slew of material, including an album, all to little effect. It’s just recently that they’ve begun to find their true form. Only the last couple of singles ‘Magnum Force’ and ‘Outcasts Only’ even hint at the current manic power.

The Outcasts | Cast Iron

“We just haven’t been able to get down on record the sound we’ve wanted,” says Greg, “that is until now! So many of the new gunk bands seem to be happy with really badly produced records. They can, get away with anything, they’re not prepared to go into a studio and spend money. Now we know the sound we want, and we’ve got it. We’ve finally captured the strength.”

“You hear about all these great records with power and thrash,” snarls brother Martin, “and when you put them on all you hear is ‘bzzzz’. The guitars sound like a bee in a tin box . . . something ridiculous. I like to hear power! Power’s good. We’re after a good heavy sound — not a buzz.”

And they’ve got it too. The tapes of the forthcoming ‘Angel Face’ release are dynamite, with the two drummers sounding as if they could demolish whole housing estates if they really wanted too. How’d the double kit come about?

“Well we were doing a gig down at the old Harp bar,” explains Colin, “a Christmas gig, and we wanted to do this old Christmas carol, ‘Silent Night’ — the one the Dickies did, and we thought it would be nice to try it with two kits. I knew Raymond so I asked him if he wanted to give it a go and I lent him my old kit and it was f***ing great.”

The other drummer nods silently in confirmation. “We like a good drum sound y’know, and with two drummers you can do a hell of a lot more.”

He laughs out loud when I say that it must get a bit complicated at times, what with keeping time and suchlike.

“Not with us it doesn’t!” he roars. “We just bash it out. And it looks good too, very visual.”

And very catalytic. Ray had the impact of a meteor.

The Outcasts | Cast Iron

Greg: “Having a new member gives you a new lease of life, it’s like starting over again. You have to go back thtough all your old songs and work on them again, change them around a bit.”

Falls has been with the band for just over a year and a half now. He still looks bemused.

OVER THE years the band have only ventured across the channel for a fistful of dates, the most notable of which was to play at the now legendary Leeds festival. Just how much of a problem is it to be located in the land of the khaki green?

Greg: “Well Ireland is only so big and you can only go so far. I mean our records get in the national Northern Ireland charts and there’s not very much further we can go now. Youse just go over and over repeating yourself, playing to the same people all the time. There’s nothing new.”

Colin: “Well I don’t like to be thought of as a Belfast band — we’re just a band that happen to come from Belfast.” (Huh?)

Greg: “For a while it was really hip to come to Ireland. People used to make out that Belfast was very . . . I’ve met people who’ve tried to convince me that Northern Ireland was the punk centre of Britain.”

He screws his face up at the thought. “It never was! It was made out to be a very romantic place for punk, which was bollocks.”

The Outcasts | Cast Iron

Colin: “At least being separated means that we’re not copying anyone, we’ve got our own sound. We’re the Outcasts”.

Greg: “The thing is with England, particularly London if you’re gonna start a band, it’s obvious that you’re gonna start by copying those bands that you see regularly. It just gets worse and worse and worse. We’ve never had anybody to base ourselves on because we’ve never seen any other bands. I mean how many punk bands have ever played in Northern Ireland?”

He glazes over in thought. “The Clash played there . . .”

Colin: “And the UK Subs once . . .”

Greg: “And that’s about it!”

Well that’s an advantage I guess, any others? The looming bassist thinks about this for a moment.

“In some ways I think that we’ve been lucky in that we’ve been kept out of it,” he says, ‘because when we first picked up our instruments we never knew how to play them, we’ve never been taught. It’s taken us years to learn and only now have we got the ability . . . so we were never seen at our worst.”

OK, but looking back, how do you feel about the infamous Leeds bash?

“Oh that was very important for us,” declares Colin. “We were very depressed before it came along, it was just after our last trip into England. We weren’t going to go back. But Leeds proved a lot to us. We were the first band to go down really well, everybody seemed to get excited, even right at the back.”

The Outcasts | Cast Iron

Greg has his own ideas as to why! “I think where a lot of punk bands fall down is that they find it hard communicating to big crowds. We’re used to it, back home we play places as big as any band coming over to Ireland would play. I prefer doing larger places because it’s there that you have to be at your best. You can get a great feeling of power, a tremendous buzz!”

A hand that could dwarf a six-pack is clenched in emphasis.

Colin: “What we did notice at Leeds was a good feeling amongst the bands over here. It looks like they all know each other, it isn’t a bitter thing like it used to be in Belfast during the early days. There used to be a hell of a lot of competition for the few gigs you could get.”

SO WHAT lies behind the Outcasts? To these ears they’re only hardcore punk types in the most vestigial of senses. Their sound covers an armada of different bases, rather like that of the Damned.

Martin, in leather and leopard skin, originates the material and thus presumably is the group’s creative font. So I prod him for revelations.

“The Outcasts are all about spirit,” he explains, “that feeling of chaos, of having a good time. We want to capture a feeling of rebellion — but personalised rebellion. We’re not a bland statement. I hate all those punk cliches! Sham 69 have been the influence for all the new bands, not the Sex Pistols, and I hated everything they stood for. It’s all cockney and football now — and I hate football!”

The Outcasts | Cast Iron

Obviously a man after my own heart here!

“And I hate songs with messages, all these new groups do is preach . . .” He grinds his teeth together like ill-oiled gears. “That’s why I think we’re better than the rest. We’re still punks, we dress and look like punks but we’re not a bland, copyist band!”

The temperature in the room seems to rise by several degrees. Oh gotcha, I mumble.

“We’re a reaction against preaching,” says Greg. “Back home there’s so much of it. everyone is trying to tell you something. And we’re a reaction against politics in music too, when I go to a gig I want to be entertained. Some of the things we might say are serious . . . but we’re just entertainment.”

Martin: “Take a song like ‘Hiroshima’ — people seem to think it’s about nuclear war but it’s not, it’s really a sick kind of love song. Full of evil and sick lyrics . . . because I’m evil and sick. Y’know, I’ve got so much hatred in me . . .” H

He leers across the table, mad as Magneto. Where does all this evil come from then? I ask, rather foolishly. “A demon,” he says with ominous delight.

Now hatred is all well and good, but rather unexpected from a mob who’re to release such an uncompromisingly enjoyable single as ‘Angel Face’. Just where does that fit into the great scheme of things? Clearly there’s the dual drum connection . . .

Angel Face

Greg: “Well it’s just a good song.”

Martin (viciously): “And we do it better!” The singer immodestly agrees: “I think putting out ‘Angel Face’ as a single could be a very bad thing. There’s no point in putting out a cover version unless it’s either different or better is there? But I really do think that the way we do it is better, and it’s a bit of a classic single isn’t it. People know it. We never originally meant for it to be a single but after recording it we were all surprised at how much fun it was.”

“Yeah, it’s real FUN!” growls the guitarist. “Entertainment and fun, see! That’s what we’re about.”

Who’s arguing? The last time I saw the Outcasts I’d felt as if my head had been cleaved in two and my brain removed with a shovel. And if that ain’t entertaining I don’t know what is . . .